


To Deny Her (Is Impossible)

by VerdantMoth



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Jealousy, M/M, Multi, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-08-23 16:05:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16622084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerdantMoth/pseuds/VerdantMoth
Summary: Leon looks ready to argue, and Uther understands why. Kissing is not meant to be done, except in the heat of the moment, and definitely not in front of others. Still, Ygraine’s gaze compels him, and where Ygraine’s kiss had been tension wrought and proud, this kiss is gentle and soft and secret. He doesn’t miss the hitch in Leon’s breath when Ygraine kisses the other male’s chest, nor does he hide his own, when she trails her lips along his neck. “See? The court need not know what goes on in private.”





	To Deny Her (Is Impossible)

When Ygraine Dubois arrives, Uther is prepared to denounce her on arrival. He is not yet king, as his father so often reminds him, and he does not need a wife yet, might never need a wife if he appoints and heir.

But Leon is smitten with her, and it confuses Uther. Uther has not known Leon’s loyalties to ever stray from him. The boy -for he will always in someway be that impudent boy in Uther’s mind- has maybe on other friend outside of the prince and has never expressed any interest romantically in anyone, male or female, to Uther’s knowledge.

He supposes in some way it makes sense that Ygraine, with her corn silk hair and winter blue eyes, would capture Leon’s interest. Often he catches them laughing, though at whose expense he is unsure. He can’t help lashing out on the training pitch, swinging harder than necessary, forcing Leon to his knees again and again.

Jealousy is an ugly beast, but it has settled in the hollows of Uther. Sometimes he wonders if Leon knows, if he can see and taste the dark of Uther. If he has ever tasted the seeds planted at Uther’s birth he has never been able to prune that curl around the softer, gentler parts of him and choke them out.

If Leon notices the storm brewing in Uther, he responds with more time spent with Ygraine. Ygraine, for her part, seems to see it, seems to thrive on poking at the roaring winds in Uther’s mind. Sly smiles, the way she drapes herself across his lover and parades their affections for all of the court to see.

“He is not inclined towards my gender, Your Grace. One would think you of all people would be aware of it.” She whispers it in his ear during his father’s welcoming speech. He doesn’t miss the sharp gaze Leon gives him when he shudders, or the way the younger male purses thin lips. Ygraine trails a finger across his chest, a move wholly inappropriate for a public feast. Wholly inappropriate for unwed members of court, period, despite his and Leon’s doings in private.

Leon flushes and looks away, then abruptly excused himself. It leaves Uther confused and confined to the entertainment of Ygraine.

Understanding, of what he is unsure, flicks across her face. “Of course. It’s you to be concerned about.”

“Excuse me?”

She smiles something dainty and kisses his cheek and when he flushed, she laughs loudly, drawing attention to them. He hates the insects fluttering in his belly, feels as though he’s committing a betrayal though he doesn’t know why. He glares at Ygraine, and she only laughs harder, until she’s wiping tears off her cheeks.

“Oh, you poor boys. So lost and confused. I really shouldn’t tease.” And yet she does, fingers on his arm, on his thigh, breath too close to his ear. He shudders again and oh. Oh! Now he understands the heat of Leon’s gaze as he tries to maintain his modesty. He settles his hands in his lap and he turns so that his lips narrowly miss Ygraine’s. “My lady, I do believe your father and your brothers are a bit disgruntled without display.”

This time, it is she who flushes, whose throat bobs and he smirks, leans in so that his breath trails in her ear. “M’lady, I think you will find that two can play your little games.”

She narrows her eyes and places a hand dangerously high on his thigh. “Be careful, m’lord. I’m not sure you’ll like the consequences of winning.”

Leon corners him later, drags him to a forgotten alcove and lets Uther take him in a far too public an area. He doesn’t let Uther release though, grips him tight and stares into his eyes stony and unforgiving. “Are you intrigued by her?”

Panting, Uther growls “of course I am. Aren’t you?”

Leon tilts his head, considering. “I am…” He removes himself from Uther and rights his clothing. “She confuses me. I thought I knew who I was, what I wanted.”

Fear slimy and bitter crust itself on Uther’s throat. “And what you want.. Is it changing?”

Leon sinks to his knees, much as he had that first night and eyes Uther. Before he takes him into his mouth he says “no more than your own desires are.”

Ygraine is curled in Leon’s lap during a picnic trailing her fingers through his hair, just the three of them (because court fools deemed Leon an appropriate chaperone) when she brings it up. “I am meant to choose one of you to take as husband.”

Both men startle, and she studies the war in their eyes. “I’ll not split you, however I choose.”

Leon answers her, careful in his words. “M’lady. I do not believe there is anything to split between us.”

She sniffs, haughty and proud, and flicks his nose with his fingers. “Camelot might turn blind eyes to you two, but I am no fool. I understand what goes between you.” She reaches for Uther’s hand and pulls until he is close, until he too, is practically astride Leon. “I do not begrudge the affection between you. I only wish to share in it.”

“The court would never understand.” Uther does not hide the bitterness hanging from his words. He lets it drip over them, like too-ripe fruit bursting above their heads.

Ygraine flips her blond hair over her shoulders and then grips Leon’s face in her small hands. She kisses him, and Uther is both distraught and excited at the display. The she turns and kisses him, and he can feel the dual heats in Leon’s gaze. “Now you boys kiss.”

Leon looks ready to argue, and Uther understands why. Kissing is not meant to be done, except in the heat of the moment, and definitely not in front of others. Still, Ygraine’s gaze compels him, and where Ygraine’s kiss had been tension wrought and proud, this kiss is gentle and soft and secret. He doesn’t miss the hitch in Leon’s breath when Ygraine kisses the other male’s chest, nor does he hide his own, when she trails her lips along his neck. “See? The court need not know what goes on in private.”

They are not convinced and she knows it. “I am not asking to come between you- well, I am, but not in that manner. I am asking to share with you, to be a part of what you have. I would never be so presumption as to choose, or to make you choose. But certainly you feel as I do, that there is much love for us to share.”

Uther can tell that Leon is about to protest, and he knows that Leon will do it for his sake, to protect his king the only way he knows how to, by denying himself if necessary. So he does the only thing he knows to do, and he kisses Ygraine hard and hungry and battling for dominance, the way she prefers. He hears the wounded noise that escapes Leon, and he hears him shifting to give them privacy. Ygraine scoffs into the kiss and while Uther shares the sentiment, he is distracted by grouping for Leon. Any part he can grasp. What he gets is a knee, but it is enough and he grips it tight. Ygraine latches on to what he is thinking and she to grips Leon, though she gets a shoulder.

Leon stills, frozen, and they break their kiss to push him back onto the grass. Ygraine, ever the boldest of them, removes his shirt and then Uther’s. She smirks, daring them to say something, to deny her.

They don’t. Not that night, nor the night she and Uther announce their pending marriage. If the council wonders why Leon hovers at the edge, or why he leaves the room with them, they do not ponder it for long.

  
  



End file.
